Duke of Storm

by Gaelen Foley

  He shrugged and took a pull off his cheroot. “That was quite a show the two of you put on in the gazebo. I daresay I enjoyed it almost as much as you did.”

  Maggie gasped. “Pervert! You watched us?”

  He grinned, revealing a chipped tooth—most likely from Connor’s fist.

  A furious curse exploded from her lips, the likes of which she had never uttered aloud in her life.

  “My, oh my, Lady Margaret,” he taunted. “You’re spending too much time with the major. You’re even beginning to swear like a soldier.”

  Rattled, she shook her head and let out a huff of disdain, struggling to regain her composure. “What on earth does Saffie see in you?”

  He idly arched a brow at the mention of his plaything. “Well, you know, she isn’t very bright.”

  “You’re a dreadful man, using that poor girl.”

  “Trust me, she wanted to be used. So many of them do. I wouldn’t mind using you for a few hours. Would you fancy that, milady?” He blew a stream of smoke in her face, anticipating her response.

  Maggie coughed, turning her face away. “Go to hell.”

  Seth laughed. “Ohh, I’m wounded. Do you not find me handsome?”

  “Hard to say. You look like an eggplant with eyes at the moment, thanks to Amberley.”

  Across the room, his father chortled at her jibe.

  Seth glanced at the old man, then narrowed his eyes at Maggie. “Droll.”

  Then he lifted off the desk and slouched away to check out the window nook again.

  Pleased with herself for finally landing a hit on him, Maggie sent a cold smile of aristocratic hauteur at his back. “I think it only fair to warn you that my fiancé will do much worse if you lay a hand on me. He shall tear you limb from limb. He only spared you last time because I was there, but this time, I won’t stop him. In fact,” she said, “I’ll cheer him on.”

  “Spitfire, eh, Father?” Seth let the curtain fall back over the window nook and turned around to stare icily at her. “How about this, Lady Margaret? Whatever your precious duke does to me, I’ll take it out on you after he’s dead. How does that sound, hmm?”

  Though she gulped privately at the threat, Maggie refused to cower before him. Instead, she turned her attention across the room. “You’ve raised quite a prince here, Mr. Flynn. You must be so proud.”

  “Not really,” Elias muttered, glancing over his shoulder.

  Maggie’s heart pounded. She knew it was dangerous, but if she really wanted to turn their attention elsewhere, only one topic was likely to serve. “I hope your other son was more agreeable than this cretin.”

  It worked.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw anger flood Seth’s face as he took a swift step toward her.

  “Don’t you dare speak of him, you little slut!”

  Maggie ducked as he lifted his hand to strike her.

  CHAPTER 34

  Conflagration

  “Hold!” Father ordered, and Seth’s hand froze in midair.

  Damn it! To his fury, the girl’s outrageous mention of his dead brother had snared his sire’s interest.

  But of course it had, Seth thought cynically.

  Even in death, Francis was still his old man’s favorite topic.

  Elias Flynn turned from the window and eyed Lady Margaret suspiciously. “How do you know about Francis?”

  “So that was his name.” She seized on this as though she sensed an opening. “You have my condolences, sir. How did he die, may I ask?”

  Father snorted and looked back out the window. “The old bitch murdered him, of course. That’s why we’re here.”

  “Surely you don’t mean the Duchess Lucinda?” the girl asked, frowning prettily.

  Seth didn’t trust her for a minute.

  “What happened?” she asked with an innocent look.

  Father and he exchanged a dark glance fraught with bitter meaning and a shared history to which she was not privy.

  “Please,” Lady Margaret said. “If your son is the reason you’re doing all this to me and my future family, I think that, at least, I deserve to know.”

  Seth shot her a seething glare, but it seemed his old man did not mind passing the time with a little talk.

  Elias turned around slowly, letting the drape swing shut behind him. “He was a good lad,” he said, his gravelly voice taut.

  The little blueblood offered a sympathetic nod. “How old was he when he died?”

  “Only eighteen.”

  “Father, it’s none of this wench’s business,” Seth growled.

  She ignored him, all her attention homed in on his sire. “But, Mr. Flynn, I don’t understand. Her Grace is an old woman. Infirm. She walks with a cane. How could an old lady kill a strapping young man of eighteen?”

  Father’s spectacles glinted. “Her hirelings did it.”

  “Perhaps it was an accident.”

  “You think that matters?” Father said. “The result is the same. My son is dead. There’s no atoning for what she’s done.” With that, he turned his back on them both and stared again out the window.

  Seth looked at the girl and shook his head. You shouldn’t have started that.

  Her dainty chin came up a notch, and her gray eyes took on an even more determined gleam, despite her having her hands pinned behind her.

  Seth let his gaze skim over her wet, cold, shivering body. He could definitely see the appeal she must’ve held for the soon-to-be dead man.

  Truth be told, he rather liked seeing her tied up. He’d enjoyed the way she’d struggled and squirmed as he’d held her fast. When all this was over…

  “Very well, Mr. Flynn,” she said in that cut-crystal, aristocratic accent. “Even if you have a valid claim against the duchess, why kill off the Amberley men? They had nothing to do with this. The man whose study we’re in, for example, he was a vicar. From what I’m told, he didn’t even like Lucinda!”

  A sharp, cynical bark of laughter escaped Elias. “A common problem for ol’ Lucy, as I recall. Men either wanted to rut with her or reform her.”

  “What about you?” she countered, and to Seth’s disgust, Father was weak enough on this point to indulge her.

  “Me?” The old cutthroat nearly smiled. “I liked her as she was, I suppose, acid tongue and all. Now there was a spitfire. Ah, she was something back in those days.”

  Here we go again, Seth thought wearily.

  But now Margaret was staring at Father with a dawning look of shock. “You cared for her,” she said, “but…then she married the duke. My God, is that why you hate her so much to this day?”

  “Be quiet,” Seth warned her.

  She ignored him, staring at his father. “Did she love you too? Might you have been happy together? And yet you sold her to this man?”

  Elias took his glasses off and stared at the girl. Then he wiped them and put them back on, saying nothing.

  Seth glanced over at his sire. “You want me to gag her now?”

  “Leave her alone.”

  “Father, she’s playing you!”

  “Oh, shut up. Seth. Women don’t play Elias Flynn,” he said.

  But Seth knew full well that one had, once, long ago.

  This goddamned dragon lady who’d ruined all their lives.

  Well, tonight, he and Father would finish ruining hers by destroying the family she had joined, just as she’d destroyed theirs. And then perhaps they could finally be done with this hellish obsession.

  “Go check the other window,” Elias said, but, for a long moment, Seth made no move to obey, itching to tell his father off.

  He did not like the way the old man was treating him in front of this upper-class woman.

  As the tension stretched thin, Seth noticed her watching them with a crafty stare. She was looking to sow division, he knew.

  Divide and conquer.

  But it wasn’t going to work. Seth decided this wasn’t the time to let himself rise to the bait of Father’s constant goa
ding. He swallowed his long-nursed resentment.

  With a shake of his head and another idle puff of his cheroot, he simply went and did as he was told, as always.

  He would punish his little captive later for her trickery. The thought cheered him up considerably.

  Now, that he would enjoy.

  * * *

  Tick-tock, tick-tock…

  In the brooding silence that followed her captors’ curt exchange, Maggie pondered her next move. The friction between Elias and his surviving son could not have been more obvious.

  She knew she was taking incredible risks, but picking at the scab of this unhealed wound between the two seemed the only way she had left to help Connor.

  So much for being a peacemaker, she thought, calculating how to drive a deeper wedge between the pair.

  Maybe she could turn one against the other. It was a heartless plan, but if she could focus their anger on each other rather than on Connor, that would make it all the easier for him to dispatch both of them when he arrived.

  Which should be any minute now, she thought. She’d wager he had seen the lantern signal burning in the window by now, out riding the perimeter, as he’d told her he was going to do.

  He was probably on his way even now. Tick-tock. This could be her last chance to let him know what he was walking into.

  With the sand mentally pouring through the hourglass, Maggie gathered her courage to try playing her risky game. “Ahem, well. If I may say so, I’m very sorry you lost your son, Mr. Flynn, and your brother, Captain Darrow.” She faltered. “What was he like?”

  “I’m warning you,” Seth uttered, seeing through her deception, she feared.

  But Maggie would not be cowed.

  “What does it matter if I ask about Francis?” she said, deliberately using the dead boy’s name, for it seemed to have a potent effect on the old man. “I had nothing to do with his death, yet here I sit, being punished for it.”

  “It’s nothing personal against you, young lady,” Elias conceded, now that she had softened him up a bit.

  “Nothing personal?” Maggie exclaimed. “You’re about to murder the man I love! Why, in the name of heaven? Amberley is a good man! He had nothing do with this! He grew up in Ireland. He barely even knew his English relatives until he inherited the title. Is this what your son would really want?”

  Elias stood very still. Maggie almost dared to hope he was considering her plea for a moment. But when she looked from one to the other, she saw that, at least, Seth would not be swayed.

  He’d come too far to quit now, she supposed, had too much blood already on his hands. And, clearly, the dragoon had no sympathy for the major.

  On the contrary, that cold smirk he wore said Seth wanted to make Connor suffer for the thrashing he’d taken last night.

  Elias shrugged off his moment’s hesitation. “It’s nothing personal against your fiancé, either. This is all about Lucinda.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Seth muttered, looking disgusted even to be having this conversation. He crushed out the remainder of his cheroot with a scowl.

  “Oh, I see.” Maggie held the old man’s gaze for a long moment. “You’re ending the Amberley line, just like Lucinda’s hirelings nearly ended yours.”

  “Clever lass,” Elias said, studying her again in his unnerving way. “You could be of use to me when this is over, if you wish to live. The choice is yours.”

  Maggie stiffened. “I’d rather die with Amberley than be locked up in one of your brothels somewhere, thank you very much.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking.” Elias paused. “You remind me a little of my wife. Doesn’t she remind you of Mother, Seth?”

  Maggie went very still as Seth squinted skeptically at her.

  She wasn’t sure what Elias was getting at, and by the sound of it, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know.

  “You are from a good family, are you not?” Elias asked.

  Suddenly wary, she did not deign to answer.

  “Of course you are.” The old cutthroat seemed amused. “Too proud even to answer the question from some cheeky commoner, eh? That haughty glare tells me all I need to know. A blueblood for certain.”

  “She’s the daughter of an earl,” Seth said. “Her sister’s married to a marquess.”

  “My, my, how very lofty.” Elias’s cynical gaze shifted from her to Seth and back again. Then he announced his decision: “You’ll make a fine bride for my son.”

  “What?” they both said.

  “We’ve got to do something with her,” Elias told his heir with a shrug. “Might as well use her to our advantage. If you want to keep rising in the world, you’ll need the right kind of girl with good connections as your mate. Besides, you seem to like her.”

  “Oh, I do. How could I not?” Seth grasped Maggie’s jaw and lifted her face to inspect it. “Can I have her, Father? Really?” he asked like a child pleading for a puppy, just to taunt her.

  Elias shrugged. “Once Amberley’s dead, I don’t see why not.”

  Seth smiled and released his rough hold on her face. “You hear that, sweet? We have my father’s blessing.”

  Maggie’s stomach twisted. She fought not to panic. But, behind her back, she began pulling frantically at the ropes chafing at her wrists.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure you have the wherewithal to kill my fiancé,” she said in a brittle tone, determined to keep a dismissive look on her face. “He is a war hero, after all. A real one,” she added pointedly to Seth. “In my view, it is far more likely that when he comes—if he comes—you’re both going to die.”

  “Oh, he’ll come,” Seth replied. “But from there, you have it backwards, my dear. Because the moment he steps through that door, I pull this trigger.” He lifted his pistol to show her. “And your war hero dies.”

  “Amberley’s not a fool,” she said. “He’s going to know something’s wrong.”

  “Really? How?” the father asked.

  When she floundered, suddenly fearing she’d put her foot in her mouth, Seth stared at her like a disapproving husband. “Aha, she’s already been with him tonight.” He grasped her face again. “You little slut, is that where you were while we were waiting for you in your room? Were you off fucking him?” he demanded as if he owned her already.

  “Of course not! I was having a late-night cup of hot chocolate with my future kinswomen! Th-the Duchess Caroline and her two girls.”

  Seth leaned closer and stared hard into her eyes. “I’ll know if you’re not a virgin,” he said softly.

  He was a terrifying man. Holding his gaze, Maggie saw in his eyes that this particular ex-soldier truly was just a bit demented.

  Tick-tock…

  Suddenly, instead of dreading Connor’s arrival, she couldn’t wait for him to get here and save her. Who else could possibly protect her from these two?

  Shivering uncontrollably with dread now, she strove to gather her wits, then steered the conversation back to the only topic that, so far, had been of any use. “So, you’re blaming Lucinda. Her hirelings. The entire Amberley clan,” she said in taut anger. “But with all due respect, Mr. Flynn, your son was practically a grown man, so isn’t it possible that your Francis might’ve been at least partly responsible for his own death?”

  “Mind your tongue!” Elias said. He paused, scowling at her, but then could not seem to hold back. “I will say this, though. Someone was responsible. Only it wasn’t Francis. Was it, Seth?”

  His glance wandered back to his firstborn.

  Maggie saw that Seth’s face had gone ashen; even his bruises had paled.

  The battle-hardened dragoon flinched as though his sire had just punched him in the stomach.

  “Not now, Father, please,” he said quietly.

  “Oh, was it your fault?” Maggie asked.

  Seth cast her a tormented look.

  “Go on, tell her, son. Tell her how you sent your little brother to his doom,
all for your own laziness.”

  Seth whirled to face his father, fists clenched. “It wasn’t laziness! My God, how many times must I explain it to you? I was trying to teach him the family business instead of always sheltering him like you did! Is it my fault he got cocky with those two thugs? I didn’t tell him to start a fight with a pair of men twice his size!”

  “He should’ve never even been there!” Elias bellowed.

  “Why not?” his firstborn roared. “If I was expected to do those things, then why not your precious Francis?”

  “Oh, quit whining,” Elias said.

  Seth strode toward him. “Damn it, you will listen to me this time! If you really want to know who’s to blame for all this, Father, I suggest you look in the mirror!”

  Elias’s face turned white. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You and your blackmail schemes. You and your obsession with that insufferable duchess. The girl’s right.” Seth gestured angrily at Maggie. “If your thrice-damned Lucy Bly meant so much to you, then why the hell did you sell her to the duke? Oh, but I already know the answer,” Seth said. “Profit’s all that ever mattered to you. Profit and position!”

  “Francis mattered!” the old man howled. “And you got him killed!”

  Maggie watched, wide-eyed, as Seth stepped toward Elias.

  “No, Father. You did.”

  “How dare you?” Elias took a step toward his son.

  “It’s true.” Seth shook his head. “You spoiled him. Praised everything he did to the rafters till the little peacock came to think himself invincible. I know full well you wish it was me who had died, but at least I know better than to go slapping a man twice my size across the face.”

  “Which is why I sent you to do the task, not your brother, you fool. Francis had nothing to do with the family business. He was a gentleman!”

  “No, he wasn’t!” Seth erupted, red-faced. “Stop fooling yourself! He was nothing but a whoremonger’s son! Just like me.”

  Good God, Maggie thought, heart pounding. She had wanted to get them squabbling with each other, but she wasn’t quite sure what she had started here.

  The way Seth had exploded at his father reminded her of herself that day in Hyde Park, when her patience with Delia had finally snapped.